𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐆𝐨

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈

I stayed up with Draco for the whole night. He didn't sleep, but barely opened his eyes once. We didn't talk much, I asked him a few times if he was getting any better, but the answer never swayed from his gruff "no".

It was hard watching him like that, in so much pain. I couldn't tell if he was trying to hide it from me, or if he was always that tense when his nerves got that bad.

The only thing I wanted to do was hold him in my arms. But I couldn't. It would hurt him.

I didn't want to hurt him anymore.

I still watched the looks of disapproval directed at him from students all around the school. I wanted so bad for them to see Draco in the way that I saw him.

I wanted Draco to see himself the way I saw him.

But at the same time, I liked the fact that this was just our thing, no one else to bother us.

I thought about Halloween, when we went out in the snow. In that moment, we didn't have a care in the world. It was like every burden either one of us held just slipped away for that short couple of hours.

I wished every day could feel that nice.

Maybe he did too. If he did, I wished he would tell me.

I had so many dreams for this place. I remember that very first train ride I ever took here just thinking, "This, this is where my life will find it's meaning. Here is where I can truly be happy".

But now look at me. I don't think I lived one of those dreams. Not even one.

Perhaps Draco had the same expectations for Hogwarts. I'm sure that most people did. I especially feel sorry for the poor children who had to endure their first year at Hogwarts in the midst of a war.

That must have been just dreadful.

***

"We have to do what now?"

"Concoct our own potion," I repeated when Draco asked me what he had missed from our last Potions lesson. "One that's original and not dangerous."

"Damn," he huffed, falling back in his chair.

Instead of studying for our assignment, I studied Draco for a moment. He looked so tired, yet somehow, that didn't take even a smidgen away from his beauty.

"Are you feeling better now?" I asked timidly. I knew what he would say, but I was going to ask anyways. He knew that.

"Yes, Harry," he sighed, twirling his quill. "For the seventh time this morning."

"Okay. I just need to be sure for you."

"Yes, I'm aware. Once was fine. Twice was pushing it. Anything after three times is unacceptable."

"Sorry."

"Stop that."

I let out a long breath of air. He did too. At least he was still breathing properly.

"So," I began awkwardly, "What do you think we should do for this?" I gestured to our textbooks.

"Not sure," he replied, squinting his eyes, deep in thought.

"Ron and Hermione are making a Pigment Solution," I said, remembering Ron bragging to me about how bloody terrific their idea was.

"And what is that?" asked Draco.

"Hermione said that it'll be a thick, colourless liquid that you can charm to be any colour. Like a magic paint," I explained to him.

He hummed approvingly, nodding his head as well.

"Neville wanted to make an Elixir of Life for plants, but seeing as he doesn't have a Philosopher's Stone, that'd be pretty difficult."

"Of course," said Draco.

He started flipping through his textbooks, stopping every once in a while at a singular page, then moving on without a word.

"So what do you think we should do?" I asked again.

"Something fairly easy," he replied, "Wouldn't want you to fry your brain."

"Hey!" I laughed a little.

He continued to turn pages carelessly, not really looking at them.

"We could make a quelling potion?" I suggested. "Like, for panicking and stuff."

"There's already the Draught of Peace," he stated.

"Okay. Then what about something for like, sadness or whatever."

"Suppressing sadness?" Draco raised an eyebrow at me. "Wouldn't that be dangerous?"

I thought about it for a moment. I wondered what could've happened if Draco had deciding to suppress his sadness. The outcome made me immediately take back my suggestion.

We discussed it for a while longer, going back and forth with idea after idea, shooting down idea after idea.

It was a process, but we eventually decided to call it a day for now, heading to the Great Hall for lunch.

Draco looked so tired. Too tired. The circles of purple and blue under his eyes made him look like he'd been in a fist fight with Greggory Goyle.

I did tell him to sleep last night, even offered to take him there myself. But I suppose the pain was too severe for rest.

He said it had felt like the Cruciatus Curse. I remember how that curse felt down to my very bones. It hurt. A lot. To go through that again and again... and for what?

It just wasn't fair.

I didn't have to endure any physical pain anymore. Merlin knows I probably deserve some.

All those people. Dead for me.

The whole time throughout our potion discussion, I wanted to suggest something that would transfer his pain over to me.

I knew good and well that he would never in a century agree, but that didn't stop me from thinking about it.

Anything so he could rest.